Under Pressure

Some work better under pressure. I needed to light a match under my floundering butt. The inertia of my physical body was wearing on my rumbling soul. I had to get out into the thick of it and shock myself into forward motion. I committed to paint 4 consecutive 30-minute portraits at a fundraiser for one of my favorite local non-profits. “Yes, it will be just like Italy; forced to perform, or suffer the undying consequences of your own lameness Kelly” I told myself. “I did it there, I can do it here. Yes, just commit.” I did. “Count me in Tim” I said. Then I hung up the phone and it washed over me. “Holy smokes – Italy was different – I was in constant practice, and I didn’t really know any of them – I was leaving soon – and they weren’t paying for it. Maybe this is a bad idea – but I already said yes – just do it you pansy,” the battle ensued. I needed practice, and fast. My son’s class of 10 fit the bill. My confidence reinstated.

I showed up early on event day and set up my easel, the chair, the lights… “I look like I know what I’m doing” I said to myself, followed by “man, I hope this works out.” I’m a pretty forward person. My general appearance is one of a semi-confident woman who goes after what she wants – I think. But when people started to arrive I literally felt my insides shiver – I had to talk myself out of a hovering breakdown, like an introvert on the first day of debate class. I was terrified. No joke.

The first high-bidder sat in my chair. I forced a stroke, and as a matter of survival, cocooned myself in my own bubble and got down to business. While the first of four was no masterpiece, it was good enough to lift the  hypothetical bag off my head and keep going. The second, third, and fourth showed consecutive improvement. People seemed pleased, and I went home happy.

“Hmmmm” I thought, “if they were willing to pay for my chunky impressionistic style, perhaps I can find more ‘models’ willing to sit for it”. I wrote a short press release laying out my ‘no obligation’ sitting arrangement and managed to fill my month with fascinating faces interested in the experience. Admittedly, some ‘studies’ have run past my 30 minute estimate, and at least two of them were horrific failures (that will be re-done), but this past week has been the most invigorating practice I’ve ever had in my little Driggs, Idaho studio. I’m grateful.

While I would love to find a mentor of sorts who could speed up this learning process, I guess there is no better way to develop my own style – and pay for the paint. Together, we will see where it goes.

 

 


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7 Responses to Under Pressure

Kelly, those are all very awesome! mm

Thanks Mary! I’ve been to busy to ski, but I brought my stuff to the studio today thinking maybe we could sneak out this afternoon – but the phone just rang and I have a two o’clock. -perhaps we should shoot for a cocktail instead. Cheers.

You’ve got a great style…….
These give me the impression that you were having FUN – as it should be!

Yes, I am having fun!! Thanks Ginny.

The fact that you can take “nothing” out of the AIR and turn it into a likeness, even one you’re not satisfied with, is an unbelievable gift and work of art in, and of, itself!

Your “chunky” style of art shows even MORE talent to me because you can make big strokes on a canvass that turns into a compilation that actually resembles a PERSON!!

You’re a fabulous artist and I appreciate your gift…one which I do NOT possess in the least!

Kassie

hey, great job!

Can you explain the “bidding” process? In other words, how did you get your “victims?” Can I see your press release?

HI – just checking in on my “chunky impressionistic” friend! Talked to Carole and she said customers are coming and going there…….Yay. I really love your portrait style!

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“living like a fighting cock”

I’ve been a bit unsettled lately. I look around and wonder where I’m supposed to be – “not here” I think to myself. But I am here, and there is nothing wrong with this particular place. Driggs could use a bit more culture and a few more painters, but the location has nothing to do with my distraction. No matter the point on a map, I feel this restlessness on a regular basis. As I age, the time between moves grows longer, but the eventual move seems inevitable. I spend too much time thinking about what I might be missing when more energy should go into seeing what is right in front of me.

I think the constant search is for the community, and I have never really found it. I keep shuffling around thinking that the next move will be better. Of course, there are great communities all over the place, and I have lived in many, so I guess this inability to “find” one says more about me than the places I happen to land.

I know this, yet still, I spend hours on the internet searching for… “best small art towns”… “best place to make art” … “best art center”. Things get challenging (or too quiet) and I’m off to find the next “best” place. At some point I may get past that –or perhaps not??

My latest excuse to wander; “I can’t find anyone to learn from here, there are no classes, no one to study portraiture under, not enough action to feed off of…” Yesterday I found myself particularly anxious. I wanted someone to talk to that might understand me. Feeling a bit lost I went to the studio. I knew that no one was there but I didn’t know where else to go. On the table was “The Impressionist, a retrospective”. I found it at the thrift store a few weeks ago. I finally opened it.

I no longer felt like talking. I was quickly swallowed up by, among many things, letters written by Monet. In one note he writes of being thrown out of his apartment and pleads for a close friend to send him money. He expresses utter despair and concerns about how he will care for his wife and young son.

Six months later there is another letter saying “I’m living like a fighting cock, surrounded by all that I love… We are too preoccupied with what we see and hear in Paris, however strong we are, and what I am doing here at least has the merit of not resembling anyone else’s work, at least I think not, because it will simply be the expression of what I personally feel. The further I progress, the more I regret the little I know: that is definitely the stumbling block.”

I’m in good company and looking forward to living like a fighting cock.

 


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7 Responses to “living like a fighting cock”

Hi Kelly
Thank you for the lovely E-card. I am also grateful for your friendship and am encouraged by your talent, strength, energy and out look on life. Thanks for your thoughts.

I too sometimes share this feeling of restlessness. It can be crippling to have one foot on the road for me. I know that my full investment in the place is important for my sense of peace and productivity. we light candles each night from christmas night to the new year. each candle represents a pray, wish or hope. This year, one of our eight candles is for “right place” in the hope that we soon make peace with committing to where we are or making the discovery that lures us eagerly to a brave new world.

I would be happy to sit for you in January for as many times as you are willing to use me as a study.
please let me know when are the holes in your schedule.

Love and Grace
Happy New Year!

Ha! Thanks Hans. Yes, I can see where you might suffer from the same affliction. I think we’ll light a candle too. Cheers, kelly

Well, ALRIGHT KELLY!!!! I love what happened to you when you opened that book! And Hans response was lovely – yes I think lovely.

So good to see you today for that little while. Our family has been into the “family time” and hunkering down together the past few days – good as we don’t all get together as often as we would like.

I’ll be in town for a few more days and we will do something fun……..wine, skiing, wine and skiing, you name it!

I love candles – I’m lighting one now….
Take care Friend!

All I can tell you is you are not alone. It is so hard to find community. I think if you are in a more densely populated area, your chances are better though. Just last week i met with two artistic women. One is a painter, the other designs fabric. We really enjoyed being together (we drew and painted and talked) and we all three expressed hope that we could do it again soon but no one could settle on a date.
I think I’ll try to find that book you are reading. Good luck, go west, young woman… 🙂

I’m thinking Italy – Bologna. First, a summer on the east coast to work my little artsy buns off, followed by a year in Italy. That is my plan. More to come…

Oh Bologna is a beautiful town!! I love it..good for your kids too.

Italy would be a dream! I hope that comes true for you. Have you searched out any more “workshops” over there?

What did you paint this week? Dare I say I am painting a pink moose?

You are unique and I like to think I am too – let’s not lose that.

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Ahhhhhhhh

That was nice…


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1 Response to Ahhhhhhhh…

I LOVE LOVE THIS PAINTING! IS THIS WHAT YOU ARE WORKING ON NOW? YOU ARE GOOD KELLY!!

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a slow and steady hum

A slow and steady re-entry.  I did make it back into the studio yesterday.  I opened the door and set down the yolk. It was still sitting there on the floor, big and ornery, but I walked around it. “Now, yes, now my only focus is paint; smooth, supple, and inherently under my control” I thought, anxious for the command of it all.

I should have locked the door and blackened the windows. My parked car signaled a return and pieces of unfinished business came through one by one.  I addressed them as they arose, not making it to the palette until 3PM. “I only have an hour and a half left, start anyway, and don’t rush it” I thought.  I scrapped the dried concoctions left from another day, loaded fresh piles and slowly spilled them together, gentle and unhurried.  As I mixed, methodically comparing, there was no speed, no outpouring of emotion as anticipated. Just a slow, calm, deep desire to recollect and reconnect.  I fell back to Italy and quietly let my brain recapture the pearls, shiny or dull, any of them would do.

Today held the same schedule, dotted and detained by unpleasant yet important details that demand attention. By 2PM I was in the paint. “Mix the color, lay it down” I told myself. I listened. No great release or breakthrough, just a consistent hiss of information, a slow steady hum…a beautiful hum.

If tomorrow’s demands don’t involve paint they will be shut out.  I hope to share her with you by the end of the day.


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1 Response to a slow and steady hum

welcome back! I’ve been checking in here periodically to see if you’ve written..
Are you painting with Tempera? (yolk?)

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Missing The Current

Wishful thinking and an unwillingness to cave into the weight of the situation I guess.  “I’ll be a brave worrier” I told myself. “We’ll show the world.” And maybe we will. For now, I feel like the world is showing me.  I have not been in the studio for months it seems, and a piece of me is desperate and sad.  Maybe for my own dreams that seem to be shelved again, or maybe for hers.  We’re trying to buck the system. Not my first run around the rodeo, but it’s Aidan’s, and I’m tired of the dust.

This process involves a lot of research, trial, and error, and eventually a mastering of sorts I hope. Much like painting.

“What do you want?” Tom asked me after hours of discussion about the state of things.  “I want…I want…I want…I want Aidan to be OK. Then, I want a stable environment where I know a simple existence (with health insurance) is sustainable and I want to paint.  I want to pour myself into this same dream of discovery and exploration that I have wanted my entire life.  It seems so simple, yet I am 46 years old and I still struggle with each passing day to make it happen. Sometimes that saddens me, and sometimes it flat out pisses me off.

As a human being brought up in a middle-class environment I feel like this should be attainable with good behavior.  Then I compare it to the wildlife that lives outside my window searching for food and shelter every day, or God forbid the mother that hears her child’s affliction is not structural but chemical and incurable, and I think “you spoiled tart, get over yourself.”  That lasts a short time. Then I yearn again for this untouchable place where no external elements can dictate, whether I deserve the right to be there or not.  It is a place that flows with, within, and without struggle. Any impediment turns to a sensuous bend that was meant to be. One thought flows into the next with ease of spirit that makes me fly, and sometimes cry. It is a place of passion and understanding of the beauty that far too few ever recognize and I wish I could live there most of the time. I paint because it is as close to that current as I have ever come without drowning, and I want to swim there forever.  Tomorrow I am hoping to do the backstroke, the sidestroke, and the breast stroke because if I don’t get some water in my ears I might go deaf, and within that silence, I will forever decay.


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6 Responses to Missing The Current

Hi Kelly,

I am so sorry to read about your daughter’s illness. You have the attitude of a “fighter” and that will help get all of you through this and out the other side. I will keep you and your family in our thoughts and prayers.

— John

This current you describe is so familiar to me as an actor. Feeling sometimes like it is critical to survival of my soul and other times feeling like a self-indulgent, “spoiled tart.” But, it is critical to our souls… it’s how they breathe. Please, swim. Swim because it is how you connect with the larger humanity. Swim, too, for me because right now, I’m not even in the river, near the current. I’m on shifting sand just watching the current from a distance!

It is good to hear your voice again, whatever the song, because you have a true ear for drawing out hidden themes, the delicate melodies that subtly harmonize and strengthen the larger picture than the one immediately in focus.

While rapt in following each word, each note of your heartfelt expression of longing and life, I am equally mesmerized by the extraordinarily poignant and sensitive painting of the old woman with her goat…”That looks Italian!” I think to myself, “With all that has been going on, when did she find time to do that? And LOOK at the quality–the angle of the woman’s hip, her head, the clutch of her sweater, the love and patience, even the ELEGANCE of age as she awaits her goat’s nibbles on sidewalk grass…” I see a testimony to two worlds, Kelly, in this posting and painting. Maybe this is a work done long ago, but even so, it was a good choice, a confirming counterpoint of great ability, to accompany a midnight keening.

You are on my mine my dear artist friend. I have such empathy for you as a mother, not unlike myself, who feels like a pissed off mother bear and desperate for the strength to accept the unfairness of it all! Do yourself a favor okay? Some time in the next few days go to the studio and throw some paint down on a canvas. See what happens and let me know. Never stop dreaming about the good things and know that you are not alone in helping Aidan through this unexpected journey. I will see you in December.

Thank you all. It’s nice to know you are here. I appreciate your thoughts and support. I painted yesterday, only for a short time, but it was a nice release. Oddly, an old client walked in unexpectedly to talk about a large commission – nice when the universe backs you up. Lots of love my friends – old and new.

It was nice talking with you earlier today. I am so sorry to hear about Aiden – and I am sure you will both prevail. It was so nice working with her this summer when she was building your site. She is a gem – an independent spirit with a curious, bright mind..and I’m sure she is a trouper. I wish you all of the best. Hugs, Lisa (fr FASO)

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A Different Kind of Color

“I must study politics and war that my sons may have the liberty to study mathematics and philosophy…In order to give their children a right to study painting poetry and music.”  John Adams

John Adams was an honorable bright man.  I am pleased that he did study politics, and war, and that I am able to study painting and music.  Yet I would assert … if more of the human race studied art, there would be far less thought of war, and politics would not be a vulgar word. I’m grateful for the inclination to be filled with a different kind of color.

Desperate to cash in the campaign trail for my studio life, I joked with people that I was going back to sniff oil paint for a few days, and that I should not be disturbed.  I envisioned the scene like a screenplay, me, in my glory, dashing out one vibrant moving masterpiece after the other. A feverishly delightful display, the epitome of what John Adams had fought for.

But we don’t get our art that purely, unless we pay the price of solitude. And solitude doesn’t fit my budget right now. Two weeks ago our sweet 13 year old daughter was diagnosed with sever scoliosis and doctors tell us that she will eventually (sooner than later) need a spinal fusion; an awful process that will limit her mobility for life. Unending hours of research, feelings of despair, anger, guilt, determination, and ultimately…hope, were accompanied by the smell of oil paint, and a knowing that I could not let one obstruction be the cause of another.

Together we will fight. I will not give up all that gives me peace, as I need it more than ever.  I will not pack up all of my dreams. She needs to know that dreams are worth fighting for, and that obsticals will always arise. She will develop stamina and six-pack abs.  I will develop a stellar portfolio that speaks. We will be slaves to the everyday value of discipline.  The rewards will be evident, weather our pursuit is posture or paint.  We will caress the outcome, with faith and grace, and see where it takes us. Together we will study our little war, so that she may have the freedom to study whatever she wills.


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6 Responses to A Different Kind of Color

To be blessed with this family of mine is more than any one person should ever ask for.

Kelly,

Please know that all of here at FASO just love your daughter and that she, and all of your family, are in our thoughts.

Beautiful, Kelly

Kelly… the honesty with which you write is both inspiring and heartbreaking. Thank you for sharing not just the facts of Aiden’s challenge but also your inner response because that’s where life is lived. When we share that with ourselves and others, we open up to the nature of being human and you help me see myself (as a human and parent) in a new way.

You have a tough cookie in Aiden. Like you, she is smart, strong but at the same time willing to be vulnerable. She has everything she needs to make her way through this because she has you, Tom and Liam.

I miss you, darlin.

Oops… I meant Aidan!

Hi Kelly, This may be dismissed as semantics, but I think this little shift can make such a difference. And the shift is… Work verses fight.
What are we working for verses what are we fighting for?
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m easily riled and have a tendency myself to frame my struggle(s) in terms of warring. However, it struck me that the analogy falls apart right about the time that I have a setback if I consider that I haven’t lost. I can only lose when I stop working toward my goal(s). In a fight, you either win or lose. In work, you either finish the job or still have work to do. In work, if you haven’t obtained your goal(s), you can continue to pursue. Pursuit is the hopeful act of obtaining your desire(s). Fighting somehow doesn’t have that positive momentum. Fighting makes it sound like someone is going to get hurt and it very well could be me. Fighting will only stave the inevitable agony of death for such a short amount of time while pursuit fills what time we have with joys and triumphs that nurture not only ourselves, but those around us too.
Work is what you do. You are always up to the task at hand and you inspire others because your approach is always about solutions and not about fighting. You are such a positive person and though the struggle can be daunting at times, the momentum and genius that you bring to the table give short shrift to most impediments!

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Touching Time Rally’s to Restore Sanity

We made it in the front door around 10PM and dropped our bags in the foyer.  The only thing that came out of our luggage was toothbrushes. Everything else we needed surrounded us. Friday morning the kids and I slept in, took care of a few overdue obligations, went to the polls, and then to a party.  This party was for me and I was selfishly pleased to shift the attention for a few hours.  One of my paintings had been selected to grace the label of Grand Teton Brewing Company’s holiday ale and it was time to release it.  I singed about 100 oversized bottles and was very happy to see a few old friends and fellow artists.

The next morning Tom left our home at 4AM to drive back to Boise.  “Touching Time” was making its debut at the Boise version of the Rally to Restore Sanity, and he graciously agreed to manage the set up with the help of his staff so that the kids and I could spend the day at home.  It was so exciting to see pictures of it all put together and standing! They tell me it was very well received by the crowd and had many admirers.  People came up to find their signatures and get a closer look at the culmination of so many swipes. It will also be at the Owyhee Hotel for the Democratic election night party.  “Touching Time” has been offered to the Capital Building in Boise to be installed as a public art gift from the people of Idaho to the people of Idaho.

Tomorrow is Election Day.  We are all back in Boise making the final push.  No matter tomorrow’s outcome, I have never been more proud of the man I’m married to. 14 years later, and he still amazes me.

Watch a slideshow of all the pictures from The Touching Time fingersmear project.


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1 Response to Touching Time Rally’s to Restore Sanity

Your label is so good Kelly! I’ll be in touch as you make your way back home. Proud of you and Tom!!

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Is this political?!!

“Is this political, because I’m disgusted with all politics, I don’t want anything to do with any of them” she said as she wiped her painted finger across the panel. She didn’t get the symbolic nature of the project – the collaboration, the many elements coming together to create something cool, the old working with the new – it was lost on her, despite my efforts to clarify. Her eyes caught sight of the Tom Sullivan for Senate stuff and she refused to sign her name to the work and scolded me for my trickery. She could have simply opened her eyes, but that may have been too broad a view for such a narrow mind. I get it. Politics is ugly, and we see the seediest side of it this time of the year. But politics are also necessary. Someone has to be willing to run our towns, our counties, our states, and our country. If we refuse to look at anyone willing to do the job, the job will get done without any oversight, and that is a scary future. The more honest, hardworking, compassionate and intelligent people we have involved – on all levels – the better of we will all be. The hardships and success of this country are generally the work of many, not the work of one. The good can outweigh the bad – you just need to stand up. If you are not able to stand up, support the ones who are.

We were rained out of the Moscow event but made up for it at a BSU football game. Well, more the pre-game. We went through a lot of orange and blue paint that day but the panels were filled in by happy excited people interested in a better political system (and football). It was cold and raining – but we had a tent this time. I was layered with thrift store sweatshirts but my cold fingers wriggled to keep warm. A few hours with fun fans, and we were back at the campaign office pulling them together.

The trailer headed to Zella’s to pick up the finished centerpiece. Ginny and I worked feverishly to fill out the panels. The project is almost done. Tom and the team will be assembling them for the Boise Rally to Restore Sanity. The kids and I are headed home to vote. Just a few more days…

 

 

 

 

 


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2 Responses to Is this political?!!

Great points Kelly!
Reed

Hi kelly, if you all are here Tuesday night, come hang at Forage and up above. We will try to monitor results as they come in and we will celebrate in any case! Mary M

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The First Layout

We made it back to Boise after many hours of winding south. We stopped in MacCall for lunch, wishing we had more time to explore this sweet mountain town. The drive seemed to go on forever. I arrived ‘home’ with remnants of a herniated disk irritated and screaming. “Go home and get settled” it demanded. “You missed the Teton Valley ‘fall cleanse’, your body is tired, old, the kids are cranky – no wait – you’re cranky, Ginny is a trouper, go to your happy place, take care of yourself” yes, I thought. That sounds good. If my body breaks down then there is no choice – I must do what is best for my health…run away…run away!!

I entered the house and tried to ease into my reasoning for an early departure. “Don’t go overboard” I thought, just enough to get out. I slowly conveyed my discomfort and longing for my physical therapist, even if he does flirt with the tea party, no one else could cure my ails. “We’re not making any decisions tonight,” Susan said. She’s the campaign manager. It’s her job to juggle the temperaments of many. She exceeded here. “You need to finish the project,” she pressed. I already knew that, I just wanted a hall pass, in the worst kind of way.

Oddly enough, I have the easy job here. I’m creating a collaborative piece of art that symbolizes people of all backgrounds working together for the greater good of all. It’s what I do, regularly, for a paycheck. This one is different. There is a more personal attachment. I want my husband to succeed. On the other hand, having to share him and all of his time with the rest of the world is a bit of an adjustment. I best get used to it. He’s a good leader. I think it’s his destiny – and I don’t throw that word around. Perhaps you can understand the struggle…love him, let him go, love him, let him go… I think I’ll face something similar when our kids go to collage. Campaigning is the hardest part I’m told. I would agree – and I don’t even know what the rest of it is like.

I woke up the next morning still thinking of my spine – my approach more figurative than literal. I wanted to finish the project, not just for myself, but for the other artists I had rallied, the hundreds that had participated, and for Tom and the team that was working 24/7 to make a difference. Ginny and I spent the day in the living room/office working to finish the first two panels. They were far enough along and they pulled together with great vibrancy. The next morning we went to visit Zella, the metal artist. We laid out the panels around the metal sculpture she’d been building to see how the pieces would fit together. When we lifted the 200 LB piece of metal from the table, I was not thinking about my back. I was pulled into the old belt buckle that looked like music notes, the measuring spoons that likely made a thousand meals, the metal gear that plowed too many fields, the palette knife from my painter friend, the stove face that warmed many souls, the hub cap that traveled the state… “man, this thing is awesome!!!! “Zella, you’re a rock star!” We were all fully recharged – my backache recessing, Zella’s flue curtailing, Ginny’s… well, Ginny’s always fine…onward we go excited for the outcome.


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6 Responses to The First Layout

just saw some photos of the painting/sculpture… fabulous

GREAT BLOG KELLY! THIS HAS BEEN EXHAUSTING, EXCITING, FRUSTRATING AND FATTENING!!! I WOULD NOT HAVE MISSED WORKING ON THIS FOR ANYTHING AND YOU ARE ALSO A TROUPER!! TOM SHOULD BE EXTREMELY PROUD OF YOU AND THE KIDS AND I KNOW THAT HE IS!!! THANKS FOR ASKING ME TO BE ON BOARD FOR SUCH A GOOD CAUSE:

TOM SULLIVAN FOR US SENATE!!!!!!

Nice work, I can’t wait to see the finished piece of art. A creative exclamation point behind a great campaign! bn

I saw some pictures on Facebook of the piece you all have been working on…amazing! Sounds like it’s been quite an adventure. I’m sure glad Mom (Ginny) was there to make everyone laugh. She’s good like that…love ya mom!! Great work, and I can’t wait to see the finished piece!
~Mandy

Hello Kelly Dearest….Have been following from the beginning. What a united family you have….Tom, Aidan, Liam and you all working together for a cause that would benefit all of Idaho. Love your metal Idaho. Aunt Mary

thanks for all that you are doing. It’s nice to know that good people are still involved in politics somewhere.

Sorry about your back and that rainy Saturday.

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Rain, Rain, go away

And the rain came.  Not on the day I prayed for it, but on the day I needed sunshine.  It was Saturday morning and we were due at the Moscow farmers market at 8AM.  It was our last FingerSmearing stop.  Tom and the team were marching in the parade and we were allowed all the propoganda we could hand out.  The education FingerSmear panel was sketched out and the recreation one was already started.  We were planning to rock the voter club house.  An event in Kellogg kept Tom and I out late on Friday night.  We arrived at our hosts’ home close to midnight, set the alarm clock, and slumped into the only version of a ‘temperpedic’ mattress I’ve ever known.  The warm wrap of mattress licked my tired bones and I passed out praying for deep sleep.  I woke up and rallied Ginny and the kids, “one more day, get up, we need to be down there by 8”.  “What, what, nooooooo, can I go back to sleep”, Liam said.  “No, rally.” I left the attic room only to return 10 minutes later with the same set of demands.  “What, you didn’t say to get up” Liam extended.  A few sharp orders and they were fumbling around and downstairs for breakfast.  It was not until I fired up my computer to find the unloading details that I looked out the window.  RAIN!!!! What!?! NOOOOOO!!!! We threw on borrowed rain coats and walked down to the market.  It was still happening, but it was wet, dreary, and cold. There would be no painting in the rain.  Tom still joined the parade along with the strong of heart that turned up, and we headed to the car for the 8-hour drive back to boise.


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3 Responses to Rain, Rain, go away

Well said Kelly!

welllll it snowed here.

I CAN”T wait to see the snow!!! The idea of snow, and cooking, and a fire, and my family all in one place with nothing but time and silence… oh the ecstasy of it…

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